


Lynchpin

by Hel_Bee



Series: Lynchpin [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Torchwood Four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hel_Bee/pseuds/Hel_Bee
Summary: Torchwood Four want their lynchpin back. Just what has that got to do with Ianto Jones?Spoilers: 1.04: Cyberwoman. Set after 2.09 but before series finale. Passing references to events throughout both series but nothing really that spoilery.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Lynchpin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570587
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2008. Finally, adding my TW stories to AO3.

Captain Jack Harkness, he mused happily to himself, was fairly content. The rift was behaving itself, it wasn’t weevil breeding season and he hadn’t died once in the last four weeks. Throwing his pen onto his desk, just missing the report he had finished reading, he stood up and walked over to the window in his office, looking down to survey his kingdom: the Hub, and his subjects: the rest of Torchwood Three.

Gwen and Tosh were looking at photographs on Tosh’s screen, no doubt a step-by-step run through of Gwen’s honeymoon. Owen sat slumped at his desk, idly picking at a crusty stain on his t-shirt. He appeared to be doing a good job of ignoring the two women, only occasionally looking up in response to louder laughs or giggle fits. Jack pressed his lips together in thought; he never did have that talk with Owen regarding his rather ill-advised affair with Gwen. His internal hypocrite sensor kicked in as Ianto made an appearance, carrying a tray of coffee and looking exceedingly good in the navy pinstripe suit he was wearing.

Jack had learnt it was best not to interfere with the private lives of other people unless it was absolutely necessary. It had been a long and hard lesson to learn, but he managed it – most of the time. Besides, he was in no position to offer relationship advice. His eyes followed Ianto as the younger man handed out mugs. Their relationship could hardly be described as normal. It was too full of betrayal, hurt and passion to be easily categorised. Both of them had made mistakes: Ianto with his cyber-girlfriend, wheedling his way into Torchwood Three to help his Lisa, but then Jack would be the first to admit that he was no saint. They’d made amends, kissed and made up so to speak, only for Jack take off and leave without warning to follow the Doctor. But since his return Jack had thought they had become closer, their relationship stronger, deeper than before.

However, Ianto had been quieter since the wedding; Jack had initially thought his lover was sulking over his admittedly less than platonic interactions with Gwen. Ianto had assured him that he was not concerned with such trifles; that he was a not a delicate wallflower who needed constant reassurance of what they had together. He didn’t need or want mollycoddling or to be treated with kid gloves. Jack had been convinced at the time, but during the last few days Ianto had withdrawn further. They would have to talk. And soon.

He noticed Ianto rub the back of his neck, a flicker of pain shooting across his boyish features. Maybe, thought Jack, Ianto needed a break, time away from the Hub.

All thoughts of holidays and relaxation fled as Ianto crumpled to his knees, his hands clutching his head. Jack was out of his office and down the stairs in a heartbeat. Owen was already at Ianto’s side trying to get Ianto to answer his questions, but Ianto said nothing, preferring instead to keen in pain. Suddenly Ianto stiffened, his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he collapsed forward in a dead faint.

Jack stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his face contorted with worry as Ianto lay motionless on the autopsy slab. Owen flitted around them, measuring Ianto’s vital signs and muttering impatiently to himself. “I don’t get it,” he said suddenly. “There’s nothing wrong with him. There’s no reason I can see why he’s out cold.”

“There must be something, Owen. Grown men don’t just collapse for no reason.”

“I am a doctor, Jack, I do know that!” Owen’s reply was terse, a real sense of uncertainty in his voice, Jack knew Owen hated not having the answers; he seemed to be taking Ianto’s collapse as a personal slight against his medical credentials.

Before Jack could answer, Ianto groaned. Owen rushed to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder; Ianto looked confused and tried to sit up. “I don’t think so, Ianto. Stay lying down for now,” Owen ordered gently.

“Look, I’m fine,” Ianto insisted, sighing irritably.

“Until I can guarantee Jack,” he said pointing over his shoulder, “that you aren’t gonna keel over again anytime soon you’re staying put.”

Jack could see Ianto open his mouth to argue but he fixed Ianto with a glare and he relented. “I supposed it would be prudent,” he said sullenly.

There was something about Ianto’s quick compliance that struck a chord with Jack. Ianto Jones submitted to nothing or no one without a fight. He watched as Ianto let Owen conduct a number of tests including taking an additional blood sample without complaint.

“Well,” said Owen, not looking up from his monitor, “you appear healthy enough. There’s not much else I can do.”

With a tight smile Ianto sat up and pushed himself off the slab. “So am I allowed to return to work now?”

Owen shrugged. “I can’t see why not.”

For once Jack decided not to interfere and allowed Ianto to return to work, mindful that in Ianto’s current mood his concerns might be construed to be something else. He retreated to his office, changing one of the CCTV screens there to show the output of the internal cameras rather than the ones on the Plas.

His mobile rang, he recognised the number – the PM’s office. “Ma’am?” he answered politely.

“Captain Harkness, this is Philip Henshaw.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the name,” he answered cagily, thrown by the unfamiliar and distinctly unfeminine voice.

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” the man replied, an edge of smugness in his tone. “I’m in charge of Torchwood Four.”

Jack’s brow crinkled. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m afraid I have a request that I believe you’re not going to like. We want Jones. My team will be arriving in Cardiff tomorrow.”

“Ianto?”

“Yes, Ianto Jones.”

“But...”

“Tell me, Captain, has your Mr Jones been suffering from headaches lately, perhaps even blacking out?”

Jack didn’t like the other man’s tone. “Just what is this about?” he demanded angrily.

“Torchwood Four needs its lynchpin back, Captain. Albeit temporarily.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to give me a better explanation than that. You can’t just call out of the blue and say you intend to descend on me and my team without a by your leave.”

“Talk to Ianto.”

“I’m talking to you,” snarled Jack, his temper getting the better of him.

“We'll talk tomorrow.” The line went dead.

Jack threw his mobile onto his desk in frustration. He flung open the door to his office and bellowed: “Ianto, get up here now!”

“Who the fuck is Philip Henshaw?” growled Jack as Ianto shut the office door behind him.

If Jack hadn’t been watching for a reaction the slight tick in Ianto’s left cheek may have passed unnoticed. “Is that a rhetorical question? You obviously know who he is or you wouldn’t be asking.”

“Ianto, this is not the time,” Jack warned. “Just tell me what you know.”

“Philip is the leader of Torchwood Four. Well, he was last time they chose to publically reveal themselves to the rest of the organisation. That was in the late nineties – things might have changed.”

Jack scowled. Trust Ianto to dabble in semantics. “Tell me something I don’t know. What is your connection to him?”

Ianto’s face was expressionless. “That’s classified.”

“Classified!” roared Jack. “You’d better start unclassifying it, Ianto, because Henshaw and team are due to arrive here tomorrow.”

Ianto looked thoughtful, although not cowed by Jack’s display. “Here?”

“Here,” Jack confirmed. “He also said he wanted you. That Torchwood Four needed its lynchpin back. What do you make of that?”

“Maybe he’s heard about my coffee,” Ianto deadpanned.

Jack slammed his fist hard onto his desk. “For fuck’s sake, Ianto. What is going on?”

“I can’t tell you,” Ianto shot back. “It would put their lives at risk.”

“Whose lives?”

Ianto sank into the chair by Jack’s desk. He looked up and Jack saw he was truly torn. “It’s better you don’t know. There are things about me that I don’t want you to know... things not even you can understand.”

Dropping to his knees in front of Ianto, Jack tried to close the gulf that was threatening to stretch between them. He took Ianto’s hand. “Please, tell me. There’s nothing you can say to me that will shock me, or make me feel less for you...”

“This isn’t about us,” Ianto replied quickly. “This is solely Torchwood Four business.”

But Jack couldn’t accept that as an answer. “I need to know what they want of you, what they expect when they get here. Henshaw told me to talk to you, Ianto. He must have expected you to tell me something.”

Ianto gnawed his bottom lip, looking apprehensive. “Okay, but you’re not going to like it.”

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Jack stood with his hands deep in his trouser pockets looking at his team as they sat around the table in the conference room, waiting for Ianto. As if on cue Ianto appeared, carrying coffee which was quickly distributed before he took a seat in his usual spot.

“So what was so important that it couldn’t wait for me to finish lunch?” asked Owen, who sat low in his chair, his hands resting on his stomach.

Jack just looked at him, his head slightly cocked to one side and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t eat, Owen,” he said testily.

“Still like to take my allotted hour,” Owen replied with a grin.

Jack let the matter go, there was more to worry about here than Owen’s strange mood. “I received a phone call earlier from a guy called Philip Henshaw. He claimed to be the leader of Torchwood Four.”

“He is the leader of Torchwood Four,” interrupted Ianto, his voice fraught, and Jack knew Ianto wasn’t looking to forward to repeating what he had already told Jack.

“Yes, well... like Ianto said, his story checked out.”

“Really?” said Tosh, her eyes wide. “I’ve heard about them but every time I try to find out more I hit a blank wall. Either the files were wiped or they’re so classified that none of my techniques can break the encryptions guarding them.”

“Well, they seem to understand the concept of what being a secret organisation actually means,” muttered Ianto darkly.

“Can we get back to the point?” snapped Jack. “The fact of the matter is he and his team,” his eyes rested deliberately on Ianto, “will be here tomorrow.”

Gwen looked puzzled. “But why? I mean, I take it they haven't visited before?”

“No, first time for everything,” replied Jack, his eyes still on Ianto. “But then they’ve never asked to borrow personnel before, either. Have they, Ianto?”

Jack watched as his team exchanged looks and then turned their attention to the young Welshman. “Perhaps, Ianto, you’d be good enough to explain to everyone else why you have been singled out?”

Sitting down, Jack knew he should have handled this better. But what Ianto had told him was still fresh, like a raw wound. It wasn’t the first time he had underestimated the youngest member of his team. He wondered just how many more things Ianto would have to tell him before he finally learnt that lesson.

Faced with a wall of expectant faces, Ianto took a deliberate sip of his coffee. “I suppose,” he began, “that I should begin with a little about Torchwood Four itself, then try and explain my involvement.

“Torchwood Four was founded in 1923, and is very different from the other branches. It’s based around teams of six who aren’t geographically linked to one place, not like us and the rift in Cardiff. They investigate very particular phenomena, no matter where in the world they occur. Initially, the teams congregated at Torchwood House in Scotland, but their meetings were relocated to the nineteenth floor of Torchwood Tower in the early nineties. At its peak there were sixteen teams of six, but over the years the numbers dwindled and people weren’t so easily replaced.” He paused for a moment, taking his time to compose himself. “The Battle of Canary Wharf left only one semi-operational team intact, the rest were converted.”

Jack watched Ianto as he talked; the others sat quietly taking in what Ianto had to say. He wasn’t surprised that it was Gwen who spoke first. “What do you mean by particular phenomena?” she asked carefully.

“Anything related to parapsychology, or rather the misuse of it.”

Owen snorted in derision. “Are you telling me that Torchwood has a secret division dedicated to hunting down ghosts and people who think they’re hearing voices?”

Ianto raised an eyebrow. “You of all people shouldn’t mock the idea of talking with the dead.”

Owen scowled. “I don’t mean it that way. We’ve all seen things that wouldn’t exactly be classified as normal. I mean it makes no sense for Torchwood to expend its resources in such a way. Crack teams, racing around? Come off it, Ianto, you’re having a laugh!”

“It does sound a little strange, even for Torchwood,” said Tosh, ever the mediator.

“They're not exactly standard agents,” Ianto said, and Jack thought Ianto was trying to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. “Each team member has a particular speciality, although not medicine or computer science... more telekinesis or mind reading. Torchwood used to put all its employees through psychic training, those that were especially gifted were assigned to Torchwood Four.”

Ianto seemed to be waiting for his words to settle in. Even Owen was speechless. “Torchwood believed that the only way to stop human or alien dangers that were of an aggressively paranormal nature was to fight them head on, with people who could respond in the same way. Torchwood Four is extremely successful, or at least it was.”

“Okay,” said Owen, drawing out the word, “so where do you come into this?”

Ianto took another procrastinating sip of coffee. “It’s not easy to explain...”

“What isn’t?” shot back Owen.

“In Torchwood Four terminology I am called a lynchpin. The six members of each team are psychically linked to each other. Initially, that happens through me. There’s something about my physiology that enhances other people’s psychic abilities... it’s not really understood, just that I’m needed – kind of like an anchor, I suppose. But I don’t really have any of what you would call psychic abilities myself.”

Owen looked at Ianto thoughtfully. “So you’re like a facilitator of some sort.”

Jack could be Ianto considering Owen’s summation. Ianto nodded slowly. “Something like that.”

“So what’s happened for this Philip Henshaw to visit?” asked Tosh, she was leaning forward, clearly excited by the prospect.

Ianto shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but if I had to hazard a guess then I’d say they’ve found a replacement for the missing team member. It would explain the headaches I’ve been having recently – the team would expend a lot of energy. I can feel it; it’s too much at times... it needs to be reined in properly before they work as a cohesive unit.”

“I’m confused,” admitted Gwen, and Jack thought she probably wasn’t the only one. “So you weren’t working for Torchwood One before you came here?”

“No, I was working for Torchwood One,” he confirmed. “I’m not needed all the time, so I would report to Torchwood Four as requested.”

“But surely if you have this gift, or whatever it is, they’d want you where they can keep an eye on you,” insisted Gwen, clearly no less confused.

Ianto rubbed his chin contemplatively. Jack wondered if he should intervene. Ianto had told him a lot more than he’d said so far, and he’d agreed that Ianto could divulge as little or as much as he wanted once the team knew the basics. “It’s complicated. After my parents died I went off the rails – I caused quite a lot of trouble and I became pretty well known to the local authorities. I was sentenced to a short spell at her majesty’s pleasure where I came to the attention of Torchwood due to the effect I was having on some of the other inmates.

“I was fourteen, scared witless and just wanted to go home. All I wanted, more than anything else, was my grandfather to return from his travels and take me away. I don’t know how long they worked with me. In time I sort of got used to it, I suppose. They never actually hurt me, and I was better off there than in prison. But while they still to this day don’t really know who or what I am, my abilities are the reason Torchwood Four was formed... I am the lynchpin of every team. Without me there is no Torchwood Four.”

“Hang on a minute,” interrupted Gwen, “you said it was formed in 1923! It’s not possible.”

Jack hadn’t expected Ianto to be so forthcoming. They exchanged a look which Jack took to mean ‘here goes nothing’. “I was born in 1906; I stopped ageing in my mid-twenties.”

Jack admitted that Gwen was pulling the same face he had pulled when Ianto had dropped that bombshell on him. It was quite comical to watch. He held his breath for a moment waiting for the others to react.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Jack could see his team were eager to question Ianto further, but he could equally recognise that there was no way Ianto was going to be any more forthcoming than he already had been. He’d refused to answer Jack earlier, saying he'd explain things, just not yet. And seeing that Jack had more secrets than MI5 and the CIA combined he was in no position to force the issue.

Ianto pushed back from the conference table. “If you need me I’ll be in the archives.”

Owen jumped to his feet and made to stop him, only to be shoved angrily to one side. “Fuck off, Harper. I don’t answer to you.”

“Oi, watch it, Jones. You can’t just declare you’re some psychic-like freak who’s over a hundred years old without us reacting!”

Ianto grabbed Owen, his hands fisting in the other man’s t-shirt. He pushed him, hard, against the door. “I will warn you only once, Owen. This is none of your business. Consider this, I’ve stayed alive for a long time – and I don’t have any of Jack’s ‘come-back kid’ abilities. You don’t want to know the full details – trust me.”

With a final shove, Owen fell to the floor and Ianto left, not bothering to spare a cursory glance over his shoulder. Jack saw the shocked faces of his team but thought that on whole the session had gone a lot better than he had predicted. He offered Owen a hand and pulled the doctor to his feet.

“Are you gonna let him get away with that?” demanded Owen.

“With what, exactly? Ianto’s told us more than he had to.”

Owen stared incredulously at Jack. “You must be joking!”

“No,” said Jack forcefully. “I was just as shocked as you to hear Ianto’s revelation. But he could have easily concocted a story to cover his involvement with Torchwood Four. Considering how he’s managed to hide things from us previously we should be relieved that he’s being so honest.”

“You’re thinking with your cock.” Owen punctuated each word with a finger jabbed into Jack’s chest. “If he’s been so involved with Torchwood for all these years how the hell did he escape your notice? How come, if he’s so important, did he ended up here cleaning up our shit? And how the fuck does the cyberbird in the basement fit into all of this?”

Jack growled loudly, his protective hackles towards Ianto raised. It was Tosh who intervened, separating them with a gentle touch. “This is not helping,” she stated simply.

Jack could understand Owen’s reaction; he’d had to prevent himself from acting in a similar manner when he’d first heard Ianto’s confession. He took a step back and with it a deep breath. Owen, too, appeared to stand down. “I will speak to Ianto. But the rest of you are to give him some breathing space,” Jack ordered.

“Probably for the best,” agreed Gwen. “Jack’s right, Ianto could have completely hidden this from us.”

Jack and Owen retook their seats, both of them pointedly ignoring Ianto’s empty chair. Clearing his throat to make sure he had everyone’s attention, Jack continued with the meeting. “No matter what else has gone on, the fact is we have Torchwood Four arriving tomorrow morning. I know hardly anything about them, and quite frankly I don’t like it. I expect you to treat them like anyone else who enters the Hub – with extreme caution. We don’t know what these guys are capable of, and I doubt they’ll want to share their secrets anytime soon.”

It had been about an hour since he’d disbanded the meeting. Jack had deliberately left Ianto alone, left him to lick his wounds in the silence of the archives. But Ianto had yet to reappear; lunch was on the horizon and the caffeine levels in the Hub were dropping to critical point.

From past experience, Jack had come to realise that Ianto Jones should not be left to brood for long. His lover would compartmentalise his problems, pick over them and dissect his thoughts in the same way he would an alien artefact. Then he would bury them deep, but not deep enough to prevent them from festering. Jack was under no illusion that Ianto couldn’t look after himself, after all he had recently learned that Ianto had over eighty years of practice at being self-reliant. But that didn’t have to mean Jack would stand to one side and let Ianto deal with everything on his own, especially when he thought he could do something to help.

Jack found Ianto surrounded by a selection of so-far-unidentified alien objects the rift had spat out. He sat cross-legged on the floor holding a specially adapted PDA which scanned and recorded the dimensions of an artefact in his other hand. “You okay?” Jack asked.

If Ianto had been surprised by his appearance he showed no outward sign of it. He looked up, nothing in his expression giving away his internal contemplations. Usually Jack thought he could read Ianto really well, but now there seemed to be a mask in place, a barrier between them.

“Are the others frothing at the mouth?”

A question answering a question. How well you have learnt from me, thought Jack bitterly. “They’ll be all right. It’s not like they don’t have to contend with the out of the ordinary on a daily basis.”

“True, but it doesn’t tend to involve their colleagues.”

Jack laughed at that. “Oh, of course not. There wasn’t Mary or Diane, and let’s not forget Gwen letting Rhys into the Hub.”

Ianto smiled, not a face-splitting grin, but one that said he really was okay. Brushing the dirt off his trousers, he got to his feet. “And there was Lisa.”

“I...”

Ianto shook his head and smiled. He reached out and took Jack’s hand. “It’s all right. We’ve talked about this before and I can cope with saying her name and thinking about her. She’s as much a part of my past as you are my future. Besides, this involves her too.”

Jack squeezed Ianto’s hand before letting go. “What do you mean?”

Ianto leaned against the nearest wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. “She didn’t work for Torchwood One. Her telepathic skills were so impressive she was recruited directly to Torchwood Four. It was her death that left the hole in the last remaining circle of six, and if I’m right about Henshaw’s reason for visiting, they’ve finally found a suitable replacement for her.”

“Do they know?”

“About me trying to save her?” Ianto shrugged. “They probably suspect. Certainly once we link my mind will be open for them to see, if they choose to look. Though in general, it’s thought highly bad form to rummage around in a colleague’s head.”

“You can’t block them out?”

“No. I was never taught to shield.”

Jack didn’t know how take Ianto’s answer; it was said with a hint of resignation, almost wistfulness. “Y’know, I’ve learnt a hell of a lot while at Torchwood, and a few things before, I reckon I could teach you to shield if want to learn. Especially since it works better if there is an element of intimacy between teacher and student.”

Ianto smirked. “I’ve never heard that was a necessary requirement for it. And I am a bit of an expert in the theory of parapsychology.”

“It’s a special technique I’ve developed.”

“The Harkness method? And here’s me thinking that would have more to do with stopwatches than the workings of the human mind,” Ianto joked in his usual deadpan fashion.

Jack positioned himself in front of Ianto; he reached out to cup the younger man’s cheek with his hand. “In all seriousness, I want to help. I do have a unique perspective on the whole extended life premise.”  
Jack felt ridiculously pleased when Ianto covered his hand with his own and smiled softly.

“I wanted to tell you before, but there’s not really been the right opportunity. It wasn’t until after Abaddon that I even knew you couldn’t die. Then you left with the Doctor, and quite frankly since you returned I didn’t want to risk what we had to mention it.”

“I understand,” said Jack gently.

“Mind you, I should have realised there was something not normal about you. It’s not like you’ve hidden away from the rest of Torchwood, but I guess I wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on in Cardiff.”

“You’re not exactly pandering to my ego, Ianto. I like to think of myself of unmissable.”

“Your ego does not need any assistance from me.”

Jack leaned in and kissed Ianto, his lover responding immediately. It was a rare treat for Jack; Ianto was seldom so responsive while the others were in the Hub, preferring not to flaunt their relationship, to keep what they had between them and well away from Torchwood. Ianto made a delicious, wanton noise and Jack took that as an invitation to work open the fly on Ianto’s trousers and unbuckle his belt. Jack wormed his hand into Ianto’s underwear, feeling his lover's cock already hard and demanding attention.

“Please...” begged Ianto breathlessly. “Help me forget for a while.”

Those words echoed in Jack’s mind, taking him right back to the first time they had fucked. After Lisa and the Brecon Beacons had taken their toll on Ianto, the young man had been desperate to lose himself in someone. The warmth of another body, the mindlessness of sex and passion, and Jack had been only too happy to be of service.

Jack dropped to his knees and released Ianto’s cock from the confines of his clothing. He swallowed him whole, down in one and revelled in the glorious weight of Ianto across his tongue and filling his throat. Jack worshipped Ianto with lips and tongue, moaning and humming alongside his lover’s gasps and whimpers. His own erection strained against his trousers and he loosened his own clothing, working his cock with his hand as Ianto bucked and thrust. This was not meant to last, and Ianto came hard, his climax accompanied by a tumbling torrent of swearwords and acclamation of Jack's divine status. Jack accepted Ianto’s bitter seed readily as his own orgasm hit.

Breathing heavily, Jack got his feet. Ianto grabbed his hand and sucked enthusiastically at Jack's come-streaked fingers. They kissed again, the ferocity eventually giving way to gentle caresses; reluctantly Jack stepped back.

Ianto tucked his cock back into his trousers, zipped up his fly and buckled his belt. He grabbed Jack behind the head and pulled him down for another kiss which Jack happily allowed. “Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure,” Jack replied with a smirk.

“I didn’t mean the blowjob – though it was very much appreciated. I meant everything else.”

Jack pulled away and smiled. “Any time. I know how lonely it can be without someone to confide in.”

“Now, I have work to do” said Ianto, straightening his tie, “this alien tat won’t sort itself.”

Jack walked away with every intention of returning to his office, but something that Ianto had told him earlier barged to the forefront of his mind. “You said you had a grandfather, were you able to find him? Would he have understood?”

Ianto looked at him oddly, obviously confused at Jack’s apparent non sequitur. After a moment he replied: “He returned eventually. He wasn’t exactly happy to see his grandson in such a position. We talked, he blamed himself, and to some extent he was right to. Grandfather has one hell of a temper, and on occasion can be very protective of his family. Put it this way, my mother died at the hands of my father. And my father didn’t live long enough to regret his actions.”

Jack didn’t know what to say. There was still so much to learn about his lover and Ianto was so seldom this open. “He killed your father?”

Ianto nodded. “He once said he would end the Earth if he thought it’d make me happy. I think I inherited his sense of humour.”

“Although hopefully not his psychopathic traits. Sounds like he was one hell of a man.”

Ianto laughed. “Well, they do say genes will out. He’s like no man you’ll ever meet. And I’m not sure he’d take too kindly to you calling him a psychopath.” He dropped gracefully back to the floor, and was once again cross-legged and holding the PDA. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this.”

“Ianto...” Jack began, not wanting to end the conservation yet.

“Not now, Jack. I’ve no desire to rake over my family’s dubious history all afternoon. Please, I promise we’ll talk later.”

Jack thought the dismissal should smart more. But he could wait; Ianto Jones had never pushed him to reveal his secrets, and for now he would return the favour.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of the invisible lift operating without warning had Jack running out of his office. He joined the other members of his team staring up as the platform descended. Owen, Gwen and Tosh already had their guns drawn, but Ianto just stood there, his eyes firmly fixed on their visitors.

Jack was in no doubt that Torchwood Four had arrived. His brow furrowed as he realised there were only three people on the lift, and from what Ianto had said there should have been a further three. He couldn’t help his top lip curling in anger at the presumptuous nature of their so-called guests’ arrival. With a satisfying clunk the lift halted and Jack stepped forward to stand face-to-face with a tall, handsome man. His features were rugged, weather beaten to a degree, with steel grey eyes that were hardened with experience. His hair, once dark all over, now showed signs of grey at the temples and, like Ianto, he was dressed impeccably in a three piece suit.

“Captain Harkness, I presume?” he said, offering his hand. “Philip Henshaw.”

Jack shook his hand and stepped to one side to let Henshaw off the lift. Only then did he spare the time to examine his two colleagues. The woman to his left was built like Tosh, but she was blonde and much younger, in her earlier twenties at most. The third was another woman. She had an average build, looked to be in her mid-thirties, and Jack would describe her as handsome rather than beautiful, with mousey hair that couldn’t make up its mind if it wanted to be straight or curly. “These are Rosaline,” Henshaw said pointing to the younger of the two woman, “and Siobhan.”

“I prefer visitors to use the front door,” said Jack with a brief nod in the direction of the women – all the welcome they were to receive for now.

Henshaw didn’t look the slightest bit chastised. “There are three others waiting in the tourist office; if you’d be so good as to get someone to bring them down.”

Jack nodded in Owen’s direction and he immediately set off upstairs. Henshaw’s gaze had come to rest on Ianto and Jack had the feeling the rest of Torchwood Thee had become superfluous in Henshaw’s eyes.

“Ianto Jones!” Henshaw called out, his arms open wide in greeting.

Ianto stepped into Henshaw’s embrace. “It feels like an age, Philip.”

Jack watched the scene carefully. Henshaw had drawn Ianto close, and although he was not a jealous man by nature, Jack resented the easy manner in which Ianto had responded to the outsider. Henshaw buried his nose in Ianto’s hair and breathed deeply.

Ianto gently pushed Henshaw away. “Enough of that,” he said with a chuckle. “No extras for you just because you’re my favourite.”

“You never could resist the draw of telekinesis,” replied Henshaw, a dirty grin plastered all over his face.

“And you have always been as subtle as a brick. You and Jack should get on famously,” said Ianto, nodding in Jack’s direction.

“Come on, Philip, leave Ianto alone.” It was Siobhan who had spoken, and she too had been drawn towards Ianto, gathering the young man up in her arms and squeezing tightly. At least, thought Jack sourly, she let go at Ianto’s undignified squawk.

“We’ve brought someone to meet you.” Philip turned and beckoned the other woman to come forward. “This is Rosaline. Lisa’s replacement.”

Jack winced internally at the words Henshaw had chosen. Ianto flinched slightly but Jack doubted that anyone else had seen it.

“Hello,” Ianto said quietly to Rosaline who looked apprehensive. “Take my hands, I don’t bite.”

Rosaline was clearly nowhere near as hesitant as she pretended to be. The moment her hands were in Ianto’s, she gasped, her eyes went wide and she flung herself at him. Ianto staggered backwards, landing heavily on the floor of the Hub, Rosaline sprawled across him. “Fucking hell!” she exclaimed coarsely. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

Henshaw and Siobhan laughed and pulled Rosaline to her feet, much to the visible relief of Ianto.

“I told you, Rosaline, he’s not someone you’ll forget in a hurry,” said Henshaw, a little too friendly for Jack’s liking.

As Ianto got to his feet the main door of the Hub rolled away to reveal two men and a woman being escorted by Owen, who still had his gun drawn. Jack did a double take when he realised the two blond men were twins, not perfectly identical but enough to make identification between them difficult if one didn’t have Jack’s eye for detail when it came to attractive men. They were built more like Owen than himself, and he didn’t think for a minute that they were troubled by the weapon focused on them. The woman, whose appearance screamed 'average', looked just as unconcerned.

Jack looked away, but something made him turn back quickly. He could have sworn that the woman’s hair was light brown, but now it was most definitely black. Perhaps not so Little Miss Average after all, he thought.

Like Henshaw they focused their attention on Ianto, and soon his lover was caught up in a mass of arms and greetings that he appeared to be tolerating, at least to a point. From their chatter Jack was able to establish the twins were called Michael and Shaun.

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Ianto, extraditing himself.

Jack motioned to Gwen, Owen and Tosh to lower their weapons, and they did so, but by the look of surprise on their faces at how the newcomers were interacting with Ianto Jack doubted any of them would have been able to fire an accurate shot if the need had arisen. It was time to re-establish that he was in control of the situation, to remind Henshaw that he was in Torchwood Three now – and this was Jack’s territory.

Henshaw turned to him immediately, as if he’d read his mind, and to some degree Jack thought that was highly probable. “Captain, I feel we owe you, if not an apology, then at least an explanation.”

“That’s the very least you can you do. I don’t take kindly to people turning up uninvited and manhandling my staff.”

Henshaw’s dark chuckle annoyed Jack even more. “Believe me, Ianto doesn’t mind a little ‘manhandling’.”

Before Jack could answer Ianto was at his side. “Maybe it would be best to taking this pissing contest to your office, Jack. I’m sure Gwen will be happy to look after our guests.”

Ianto’s firm hand on his bicep was the only reason Jack moved. His glare still hostile, he unwillingly led Henshaw into his office and slammed the door loudly behind them. Jack saw Henshaw look between him and Ianto and a look of understanding flittered across his face. “So it’s not just Torchwood Three you're protecting, eh, Captain? Rest assured my interest in Ianto is purely professional.”

Jack threw himself heavily into his chair, not trusting himself to speak. Ianto offered Henshaw the other chair and chose to perch on the end of Jack’s desk rather than stand. “Rosaline feels ready,” stated Ianto calmly.

“She is,” agreed Henshaw. “And even if she wasn’t we need to key her in. We’ve left things too long already... we should have replaced Lisa a long time ago.”

Jack couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Look, Ianto’s explained the whole circle business, I get it... you need him to complete your little party. So let’s not hang around pretending to play nicely. How long is this going to take? Because quite frankly the sooner you and your little gang are gone, the better.”

“If Ianto is up for it then we can get out of your hair in a matter of hours.”

“I’m up for it. This is what I’m here for,” said Ianto. “But I want to know what has happened recently to bring this forward? It’s more than Rosaline being ready. And, Philip, whatever is happening, I’m sure Torchwood Three would be more than happy to help.”

“This is Torchwood Four’s concern,” snapped Henshaw.

Ianto shook his head. “I mean it, Philip. I want answers – before I link Rosaline. This isn’t Torchwood One, Jack isn’t Yvonne Hartman – you can trust him.”

“I’ve no love for Torchwood One,” Jack assured Henshaw. “Yvonne...”

“Was a scheming manipulative bitch; she nearly destroyed the planet, and was responsible for the death of over seven hundred people,” Henshaw added, his voice full of disdain.

“At least we can agree on something,” said Jack light-heartedly. He needed to move the conservation on; wallowing in the past would not save the future. He should know – he’d done it countless times himself. “So what’s wrong?”

Henshaw looked to Ianto who smiled encouragingly. “Can I use your computer? This will be so much easier to explain with pictures.”

Jack moved out of the way and handed Henshaw his wireless keyboard. A few precision strokes later and Henshaw brought up a web interface that Jack hadn’t seen before. The screen filled with a map that he did recognise: it was the rift. And at various points all over Cardiff were little annotated dots. “Something’s coming through. There’s an offshoot to the rift, they’re coming through there. We’ve been tracking them for a while, but their numbers are increasing.”

Ianto glowered at the screen. “How come we haven’t seen them?” he demanded.

“They can shield themselves very effectively. It was only once we started catching the odd individual that we were able to track them back to the rift. At first we weren’t worried, they didn’t appear hostile and their obvious psychic abilities were unremarkable. But the more that come through the stronger they are. In our current state we won’t be able to stop them.”

“Who are they?” asked Jack.

“No idea.” Henshaw shrugged. “Their corporal image is humanoid, but that means nothing, could just be another ruse.”

Ianto bit the inside of his cheek. “Are they dangerous?”

“We didn’t think so at first, but we’ve since seen evidence that they are now developing substantial mind control abilities. It’s beginning to look like a silent invasion.”

Jack let out a long whistle. “And we all know what that could mean.”

“What we don’t what is another Canary Wharf,” agreed Henshaw.

“What’s your plan, Philip?” asked Ianto. “I assume you have one.”

“Once Rosaline is linked we should be strong enough to fix the crack and psychically seal it. That would at least prevent the others from coming through, and then we can spend our time chasing down those that are left.”

“Will it work?” Jack was no expert, but it struck him that this sort of operation was not exactly easy.

Ianto stood up. “You’ll need me there.”

“No!” both men exclaimed together.

“You’re too valuable to be put at risk,” insisted Henshaw. “What if something happens to you? We can’t lose our lynchpin.”

“And I have no intention of trying to figure out how that coffee machine works!”

Ianto laughed at Jack. “At least I know where your priorities lie,” he replied, smirking.

“But seriously, Philip, I know you and your team. I felt Rosaline and you will need me there. You’ll need the boost I can give you, especially this close to keying in a new circle member.”

Jack sensed that they had lost the argument even before it had really begun. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

Henshaw looked less convinced, but he must have known how stubborn Ianto could be as he didn’t argue further. “Right, best get things started. Captain, do you have a medical facility here?”

“Why?” asked Jack, suspicious.

“There’s no need to for that,” interrupted Ianto.

Philip raised an eyebrow. “I disagree.”

“Would someone like to let me in on the secret?” prompted Jack, as the two other men were trying to stare each other down.

“The link can be very tiring for Ianto. I would prefer him to be monitored and have proper medical care.”

“Oh, please!” snorted Ianto. “This is ridiculous.”

“Last time your heart stopped. We nearly lost you!” snarled Henshaw.  
Jack placed his hand on Ianto’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Nothing wrong with taking precautions, Ianto. We’ll get Owen to set up the autopsy bay.”

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

“This is perfect,” announced Henshaw as Jack showed him the autopsy bay. “My team can stand on the gantry and Ianto will be safe in the middle on the slab, with the good doctor on hand if he is needed.”

Jack could see why the room would be ideal. Torchwood Three would often stand around and watch Owen work, leaning over the banister or sitting on the stairs. If he was honest, Jack was a little concerned by Henshaw’s request for medical backup, but Ianto was a big boy and there was no way he was getting involved; he wasn’t willingly about to allow himself to become the victim of an aggrieved Welshman. He might be immortal, but dying still hurt and was a major inconvenience. “I want to be present.”

“I predicted you might,” said Henshaw coolly. “And as you have mentioned – several times –this is your domain. Who am I to stop you?”

Jack felt a hand brush past the small of his back; he looked around to see Ianto give him a gentle smile before trotting down the stairs to the slab. Quickly, but with great care, Ianto removed his suit jacket, waistcoat and tie, placing them safely to one side. He hopped up onto the slab and manoeuvred himself so he was sitting in the middle, cross-legged.

Owen was already down there and once Ianto’s shirt was unbuttoned he started attaching numerous monitoring devices to Ianto’s chest, much to Jack’s relief but his lover’s chagrin. Owen clapped Ianto on the back and grinned. “You’ll light up like a Christmas fairy if anything goes wrong now. Mind you, give you a fishing rod and you’d do a passable impression of a garden gnome sitting like that.”

Jacked missed Ianto’s sarcastic reply, he was far too busy watching Henshaw’s team take their places around the gantry of the autopsy bay. Rationally, Jack knew he shouldn’t worry; Ianto had done this countless times. But Ianto hadn’t been a member of his team then, let alone his lover.

“We’re ready when you are, Ianto,” called Henshaw.

Jack saw Owen squeeze Ianto’s shoulder and retreat back to the monitoring station. Their relationship had also changed while Jack had embarked on his tour of duty with the Doctor. Owen, although obviously still smarting over Ianto’s recent revelations, treated Ianto with all the care and consideration of an older sibling. And Ianto had slipped quite happily into the role of little brother.

“Let’s get this over with,” said Ianto determinedly. “Philip, you start and we will proceed clockwise around the circle.”

The atmosphere in the room changed immediately. Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle; he shivered as an unknown energy he’d never experienced before escaped from Henshaw, exciting the particles in the air and dancing over his exposed skin. Jack bit back a groan that threatened to escape at the strange, almost erotic sensation.

Ianto and Philip stared intently at each other, a silent conversation playing out between them. The air literally crackled around them, the lights of the bay flashing on and off as a rumble akin to thunder filled the air. Philip reached out to Ianto, his fingers splayed out in the younger man’s direction. Jack’s jaw dropped as a bolt of what could easily pass as lightning flew from Henshaw’s fingers and hit Ianto square in the chest. Unthinkingly, Jack stepped forward to intervene as Ianto gasped sharply, but Henshaw, still firing energy into Ianto, held his other hand up to stop him. Reluctantly, Jack withdrew.

To Jack’s left, Siobhan was now mirroring Henshaw’s actions. Ianto turned to her and nodded. This time Ianto didn’t gasp as the energy bolt struck him, instead an eerie calm settled across his features and he turned to the twins. They acted together; Jack thought they felt different to Henshaw and Siobhan, but he couldn’t describe it exactly. Their energy fizzled and popped; it had a jagged edge to it as it tore across the autopsy bay. Ianto jerked as it hit him, but clenched his teeth, breathed deeply and regained his composure in time for Maria – the one Jack had dubbed average – to add her energy to the mix.

Now there was only the new girl left. Jack thought she looked anxious but focused. She’d clearly been trained for this moment. But he knew himself that it was one thing training for something and another for it to be the real thing. Ianto, despite his evident discomfort, smiled at her. The kind of smile that Jack saw every time Ianto was trying to persuade him to do something he wasn’t sure Jack would comply with. Rosaline held out her hand, it shook visibly, her whole body taut with nervous excitement. Her energy was raw and wild. It pulsed irregularly as she tried to control it. She scrunched up her face, a picture of concentration and concern as she reached out to Ianto.

“You’re doing fine,” Ianto assured her. And Jack was impressed that there wasn’t even a tremor to his voice. “Just take your time – you’re nearly there.”

Ianto’s words had the desired effect and Rosaline managed to take control, pushing her energy smoothly from her body and connecting with Ianto.

Jack gripped the banister in front of him, his knuckles turning white, as he watched. Six beams of light now burned into Ianto, and Jack held his breath wondering what the hell would happen next. He was soon answered as Ianto all but screamed: “Now!”

Each of the six acted in the same way. Keeping the one hand that was feeding Ianto the energy in front of them, they extended their other arm, pointing to the circle member on their left. Ianto growled and threw back his own arms as he pushed his chest out, firing the energy he received back at the others. The light was bordering on blinding, and Jack tried to shield his eyes in a way that he could still see what was going on. The light flew from Ianto, crashing into the chests of the circle members. The energy careered through their torsos and shot out of their outstretched arms towards the person to their left until they were joined by a circle of power; like dancing electricity that burned and roared with such ferocity that Jack thought it could tear the Hub apart.

But then it quietened, reducing its volume to a hum, as it raced around and around the room linking each member of circle. Smoother, yet so powerful that Jack could taste it. For a moment he thought he recognised it, but the memory dissipated quickly as he realised exactly what Ianto was doing. He was a conduit, a guide so they could be as one. He was linking them together and was now acting as a positive feedback loop, letting each of their unique gifts bleed though him to the others. Ianto Jones was their lynchpin – there really was no better terminology for it. He made the circle; he allowed them to understand each other’s abilities; his role was to make the team whole and he would make sure they remained that way.

With a great flash the light disappeared. The six circle members stood panting heavily but grinning ear from ear. But Jack didn’t really care; his focus was Ianto who sat motionless for a moment then slumped backwards.

“Owen,” Jack called as he raced down the stairs, “how is he?”

The doctor’s jaw was slack and he was staring at his monitor in disbelief. “His blood pressure is so high that his head should have exploded, and his heart is beating so fast I’m amazed it’s still in his chest.”

“And yet I live,” drawled the Welsh voice. Jack whirled around to see Ianto sitting up, breathless, tired but outwardly none the worse for wear.

Owen pushed past Jack. “How?” he demanded of Ianto.

“How do you think?” replied Ianto cockily, starting to remove the electrodes from his chest.

Owen scowled. “You’re not totally human, are you?”

“And you’re not breathing, but I’m not holding it against you.”

“Ianto?” Jack said questioningly, looking at his lover with surprise.

“I told you, Jack, that my grandfather was a remarkable man.”

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Batting Jack’s hands away, Ianto slid off the mortuary slab and finished fastening his shirt. “You can stop fussing, I’m perfectly all right,” he insisted, knotting his tie and slipping his jacket back on.

Jack just looked at him, annoyed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that your alien physiology normally reacts this way. I’ve seen you gasping and panting and your heart has never beaten that fast.”

“There is such a thing as too much information,” muttered Owen. “Besides, Ianto’s pulse and blood pressure have already returned to normal. Well, normal for him. He’s always had slightly higher vitals than the rest of us. Least I know why now. “  
Jack was not to be swayed. “What species are you?”

“Mostly human,” Ianto replied tersely. “How about you?”

“Could you guys leave this till later? I’d like to subject Ianto to some more tests...” began Owen.

“No!” snapped Ianto. “I know you, Owen, you want to find out why you didn’t realise before. Just face facts, I’m human enough for Torchwood, and anything I don’t want you to know you won’t find out.”

Owen made to argue but Jack didn’t give him the chance. “Anything else you’d like to tell me, Ianto? I don’t know – maybe you’ve a lovechild with the pterodactyl?”

“Look, Jack, we’ve got bigger things to worry about than your hurt feelings. I promise I’ll tell everything once we’ve sealed the rift crack.”

Jack clenched his fist angrily; annoyed both with Ianto and the fact he was right. However, Ianto was clearly unconcerned with Jack’s reaction; he was already back upstairs and talking to Henshaw.

“Give Tosh all the details you have. Her rift predictor programme is the best shot we have at finding the ideal place to seal the crack.”

“We’re planning to use a high level psychic shield. It’s the easiest solution,” Henshaw informed Ianto before following Tosh to her computer. The rest of Torchwood Four fell in behind Ianto who led them to the conference room.  
Ianto turned to Jack. “You coming?”

Pushing away his frustration and desire to slowly wring Ianto’s neck, Jack nodded curtly, entering the conference room behind Rosaline and taking his usual seat at the head of the table. Gwen and Owen joined them and the room began to feel a little crowded. It became even more so when Tosh and Henshaw arrived a few moments later.

Jack glared openly at Henshaw, his professional demeanour forgotten. “You have the floor. What’s the plan?”

With Tosh’s help Henshaw brought up the screen showing the rift predictor program. “As I have explained to Captain Harkness and my own team, the rift that runs under Cardiff appears to have an additional schism or a crack, if you like, that has been causing problems. If we don’t seal it more of a so-far unidentified alien race with significant paranormal and psychic abilities will come through. Toshiko believes that the predictor programme,” he pointed to the screen, “can pinpoint where it would be best to erect a psychic shield to close this crack.”

“Unlike the rift,” began Tosh, “the crack has a different, more subtle, energy pattern that was previously obscured by the main rift activity. I’ve retuned the programme and so far it looks like there is a small, but permanent, opening of the rift – though it’s like nothing we’ve witnessed before. It will only be a matter of minutes before we can decipher exactly where in Cardiff it is manifesting.”

“So how will this psychic shield work?” asked Jack, his need to understand outweighing his dislike of the involvement of Torchwood Four.

“Since we believe that it is the aliens' psychic ability that allowed them to open the crack in the first place, I think our best chance of sealing it is to block it like we would any other incursion of this kind. Think of it as a physical projection of a shutter many empaths use to block out the thoughts of others,” explained Henshaw.

“Sounds like we’re trying to wallpaper over a crack,” said Gwen simply.

“Or applying a bloody large sticky-plaster,” agreed Owen.

Jack looked at Ianto as the Welshman made a soft humming noise. “The shield would need reapplying at set intervals. This is by no means a permanent solution,” Ianto pointed out.

“Unfortunately, it’s the only one we’ve got. With the limited information we have there’s no way we can attempt to alter the crack and, by extension the rift, without the risk of causing more damage.”

Toshiko nodded. “Philip’s right. At least with the information he’s given me we can monitor the crack and the shield for any change in the future. And I do have an expert to call on if I need assistance,” she added, smiling at Ianto.

There was a loud ‘beep’ which indicated that the rift predictor programme had finished. Tosh hurried over to inspect the findings and frowned. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Jack was on his feet and by her side in an instant. “What's wrong, Tosh?”

“Nothing, it’s just... weird. The site is in Bute Park. Right over the Gorsedd Circle.”

“The what?” asked Owen.

Tosh stared at him over her glasses. “It's a modern day megalith. It was erected by druids for use in their ceremonies, but many scholars believe it was originally a prehistoric site from which the stones had been removed.”

“Do you think its siting is significant?” questioned Henshaw.

Tosh shook her head. “I doubt it – probably a coincidence.”

“And of course the whole place will be crawling with tourists,” groused Jack. “Okay, Gwen, call the police and get them to close the park and move the people of the way. I get the feeling this is not something you want a whole lot of people watching.”

“Exactly right, Captain,” agreed Henshaw. “I suggest we make a start as soon as possible.”

Owen volunteered to stay behind to monitor the rift, but Jack overruled him, stating that he wanted the doctor on hand – just in case. Instead Tosh was to man the Hub while the others crammed into the SUV and Ianto’s Audi.

The police had already secured the area by the time the two Torchwood teams arrived. Jack heard mutterings about ‘bloody Torchwood’ from two constables who’d drawn the short straw of standing watch over the police line, clearly pissed off and wanting to get back to the police station for tea. Jack led the way through the park towards the castle and the Gorsedd Circle.

Owen stopped abruptly when he saw it. “When Tosh said it was a megalith I kind of expected something... more.”

Ianto jostled Owen playfully as he went passed. “That’s the trouble with you, Owen: want, want, want. Never satisfied.”

Jack had to admit it was not the most impressive site, but there was an air about the place that unnerved him. The nine smallish stones sat in a circle surrounding a rectangular slab, potentially an altar or a plinth of some sort.

Torchwood Four were already taking up position around the circle and Ianto was talking to Henshaw and pointing at the middle slab. “I’ll sit in the middle, that way you can all see me and I can influence you better. Try and focus above my head to start with and ...”

“No,” said Henshaw as Jack approached. “You might get trapped.”

“As soon as the shield is formed I’ll get out of there. All you’ll need to do is lower it and anchor it in place.”

“I’m still not happy.” Henshaw had crossed his arms over his chest, his body language backing up his words.

Jack recognised an impasse when he saw one. “How about I sit with Ianto? When you give the word I guarantee you that I’ll drag his arse out of danger – I’m rather attached to it.”

Henshaw smirked, and Jack was fairly sure it was despite himself. “Deal.”

Ianto put his hands on his hips. “Am I not to be consulted?”

“No!” both Henshaw and Jack said together.

With an exasperated growl, Ianto threw his hands up into the air and stomped off to get himself comfortable on the slab.

“I see he’s still a handful,” said Henshaw as Ianto walked away.

“He certainly has his moments,” admitted Jack. “Stubborn bastard.”

Henshaw laughed. “But neither of us would change him.”

They exchanged a knowing smile and Jack set off after Ianto, wondering just how close his lover had been to Henshaw in the past.

Jack sat next to Ianto on the damp slab, thankful for his RAF coat to keep out the chill. Ianto still looked mightily annoyed. “So, anything I can do to help?” asked Jack.

“No.”

“Surely there’s...”

“Jack, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But all I need to do is sit here and let them work. My presence increases their capabilities and the link between them, I don’t actually do anything.”

Jack grabbed Ianto’s hand, and for once Ianto didn’t protest about inappropriate actions during work. “All right. But when I say run, you run.”

Ianto’s eye-roll in reply was all Jack needed to know he’d been forgiven. “Now, be quiet – it’s quite something to see.”

The six members of Torchwood Four stood surrounding them on the outskirts of the stone circle with their arms raised. Jack realised there was no need for vocal communication between them, Ianto’s little lynchpin routine had seen to that. One by one they sent out streams of light that intermingled above Jack and Ianto’s heads. The energy was beautiful and, unlike the last time in the autopsy bay, the control that each circle member exerted over it was much greater. The strands of light crossed each other, weaving in and out making a lattice, a psychic netting that would prevent Cardiff being overrun by aliens with a taste for mind control. The display overhead was truly beautiful and the soft humming noise it made was, at least to Jack’s ears, extremely comforting.

There was a loud buzz followed by a snapping noise. Jack’s head shot around to see one of the twins having trouble controlling the energy he was pouring into the matrix. Ianto immediately covered the distance to the circumference of the circle, standing in front of the clearly worried Michael. Jack saw Ianto extend his hand and place it on the other man’s shoulder. Almost instantaneously, Michael regained control, his energy pouring once again into the psychic shield that they were building. With an almost imperceptible nod Ianto broke contact with Michael and took a few steps backwards.

“Jack!” called Henshaw. “Time to get out of there.”

Jack shouted to Ianto: “Move your arse, Jones!”

Ianto didn’t even turn to look in Jack’s direction. Jack glanced upwards. The matrix was beginning to descend and he could see the circle members trying to hold it aloft as long as they could. Jack raced towards Ianto and grabbed his lover by the arm. He dragged Ianto away, flinging them both to the ground outside the boundary of the stone circle. Jack turned to look behind him; the shield had been lowered and it was inches from their feet. Ianto sat up, rubbing his forearm. “You okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, thanks for that. I was a little distracted... I’m all right now.”

They got to their feet and watched the shield sink into the grass, the glowing lattice disappearing from sight. “Jack,” came Tosh’s voice from his Bluetooth earpiece, “the crack appears to be sealed off. They’ve done it.”

Jack watched Ianto run off to congratulate Henshaw. There was a hollow feeling in his stomach. Surely Ianto belonged with Torchwood Four; his talents were wasted in Cardiff. Henshaw hugged Ianto enthusiastically and Jack wondered if it was time to give Ianto the option to leave.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some info on the Gorsedd Circle – if anyone’s interested!
> 
> https://tspace.library.utoronto.ca/citd/holtorf/7.1.html


	7. Chapter 7

Jack supposed he ought to act with some sort of mutual camaraderie as Henshaw was preparing to leave. But he hadn't become the leader of Torchwood Three and travelled the universe by doing the things he ought to. In addition, he was being forced to listen to the overly sentimental outpourings from the other members of Torchwood Four towards Ianto. His lover, never particularly demonstrative, looked as uncomfortable as Jack felt. Both of them, he believed, would be glad to have the normal order of the Hub restored, even if the upheaval had only lasted a matter of hours.

Henshaw had finally released Ianto from his, in Jack’s opinion, quite unnecessary embrace and stood with his hands on Ianto’s shoulders. “We’ll keep in touch.”

Ianto smiled. “It’s not like I can’t feel where you all are. In fact, Philip, just why did you come to the Hub? You could’ve contacted me directly and saved me a hell of a lot of explaining.”

Jack could tell Ianto was joking, but it was a valid question. And while he didn’t necessarily try to eavesdrop on his employees’ conversations he couldn’t help overhearing things if they happened to be in earshot. “Maybe I wanted to annoy the captain.”

“Or maybe you knew you would actually need Torchwood Three’s help,” said Ianto, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Perhaps,” said Philip noncommittally. “But it’ll be a cold day on the astral plane before I admit that.”

“You’re actually a lot like him: stubborn, egotistical and so full of bravado that I’m surprised you don’t explode.”

“Oi,” called Jack, a little hurt, “I heard that!”

Jack held his hand out to Henshaw. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure...”

“No, it hasn’t,” replied Henshaw with a grin as they shook hands. “And don’t worry, we won’t be back soon.”

Hours later, post-weevil hunting and subsequent mop up, Jack handed Ianto a glass of malt whisky and invited down to his quarters. The Hub was quiet apart from the whirring of computers and the occasional sleepy mutter from the pterodactyl who sounded like she was dreaming about catching sheep. Jack sat down on his bed and patted the mattress next to him, inviting Ianto to sit.

“You could have gone with them, you know?” he said quietly, watching Ianto carefully for his reaction.

Ianto sipped his whisky, licking his lips afterwards. “Why would I have wanted to do that?”

“You’re their lynchpin. They need you.”

“No they don’t,” said Ianto firmly. “I’ve done my job; if I went with them I would be in the way, a liability. And if I’m going to hang around somewhere being under-utilised, it might as well be here – least I know the sex is good.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but Ianto silenced him with a kiss. “It’s called sarcasm, Jack. I don’t believe the self-deprecation – I know this place would collapse without me.”

“I wouldn’t fare too well without you either.”

Jack yelped at the sharp poke to his ribs. “Less of that rubbish, Captain,” warned Ianto. “I don’t need the hearts and flowers sentiment.”

Jack grabbed Ianto, pushing him back on the mattress, pinning him down. “So what do you need?” he growled, his lips making their way down the exciting column of flesh known as Ianto’s neck.

“You. Hard and fast. I want you to fuck me.”

Clothes were discarded, more skin revealed and worshiped and, despite Ianto’s demand ‘to get the fuck on with it’, Jack teased his lover, driving him wild and to the brink of incoherence. Ianto rambled in a mix of Welsh and English, demanding and forthright, telling Jack what he wanted. Succumbing to Ianto’s delightful begging, Jack sank into his lover, relishing his heat and passion. Tonight wasn’t for gentle lovemaking and words of comfort. Tonight was about territory and ownership. As Jack fucked Ianto, the lines blurred and he couldn't tell just who possessed who. Ianto cried out in pleasure as he came, and Jack drove into him again and again, until he too could no longer hold off his orgasm, crying out a stream of profanities as the world exploded behind his eyes.

They managed to find a position where they both lay comfortably in Jack’s small bed, something borne of practice and Ianto’s refusal to let Jack leave him after sex. Ianto’s head rested on Jack’s chest and Jack gently stroked his hair. “No going to sleep,” he chided, “there’s still things we need to talk about.”

Ianto groaned but looked up at him. “What do you want know?”

Jack thought back on all he had learnt about Ianto in the last twenty-four hours. So much to take in, to understand and process. Jack knew he had no right to question Ianto on keeping so much of his past hidden, but he couldn’t leave some things unasked. “Just how much of your staff file is false?”

“Oh, most of the early stuff, I’d say. Apart from my name and place of birth,” he said happily, “and the conviction for shoplifting – only when I did it, the authorities didn’t see it as such a minor offence – hence the prison sentence.

“But it’s been pretty accurate since I joined Torchwood One – if you ignore my involvement with Torchwood Four. Best to hide the lies within truth.”

Jack squeezed him tighter, wanting to show that he didn’t really mind. “There is one thing...”

“He is Gallifreyan. That is what you want to know isn’t it?”

“But...”

Ianto sat up and straddled Jack, making sure he was staring directly into Jack’s eyes. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not a Time Lord. I’m a mistake of genetics and a time distortion. My grandfather is still, for the most part, mystified how he managed to get my grandma pregnant – her being part Carrionite probably helped.”

“Carrionite? Really?” said Jack, sporting a doubtful expression. “What the hell was going on, some alien swingers’ party I wasn’t invited to?”

Ianto laughed. “Apparently they met while searching for ley lines in Snowdonia. But grandma had a human father, so she wasn’t brought up in whole witchcraft and distorting physics environment. Mind you, she did hate Shakespeare with a passion.”

“No wonder you’re not exactly normal.”

“Pot calling kettle,” Ianto teased playfully, delivering a gentle punch to Jack’s shoulder.

“So just how different are you?”

Ianto sighed. “I’m not like him, if that’s what you mean. I can’t regenerate, but I will live a long time – as long as I don’t get myself killed.”

“How long?” Jack asked, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know for sure, several hundred years at least we reckon.”

Jack was tired and his brain was barely coping to keep up, but one idea just wouldn’t leave him alone. “Do I know him?”

“Yes,” Ianto said carefully, “but it’s not the Doctor.”

Jack sat up with jolt, Ianto yelped as he was knocked backwards. “The Master!”

“Well, I’ve only ever known him as granddad,” said Ianto in a tone that was clearly meant to lighten the mood. “Though I will admit his appearance has changed from time to time.”

“Ianto,” warned Jack. “This is not funny.”

Ianto sat back his heels and glared at Jack intently. “Jesus, Jack, think about it. Why didn’t Saxon just have us all shot instead of sending us to the Himalayas? He wanted me safe and out of the way – that’s why.”

“But he’s a psychopath.”

“I agree, but he is family.” Ianto knelt up and stroked Jack’s face. “I can’t take back the things he did to you... I will understand if you can’t do this anymore.”

“What? No!” Jack grabbed Ianto tightly, realising exactly what Ianto meant. For all his resentment and hatred for the Master, there was no way Ianto’s heritage would rob him of his lover. “I’m not letting you go.”

Ianto chuckled, his hot breath tickling Jack's ear. “I don’t think I’ll be bringing you home to meet granddad any time soon. I don’t think he’ll approve of you somehow.”

Jack pushed Ianto gently away, but not releasing him. There was something Jack had to tell him, he couldn’t let Ianto believe the Master was still alive. “There’s no easy way to say this. But you do know he’s dead, don’t you?”

Ianto smiled ruefully. “So he’d like the Doctor to believe. But I got postcard from Terileptus about three weeks ago. Saying that he was coping with the new teeth, was not impressed with being ginger and hoped I’d had a good birthday.”

“But... I saw...”

“You saw what he wanted you to see. That’s the trouble with Time Lords – they’re sneaky bastards.”

Ianto settled back down and spooned up against Jack. “Enough for tonight. What’s past is past, and I’ve no intention of creating a paradox just so you can have a set of in-laws that won’t want to kill you.”

Jack laughed and relished the warmth that Ianto’s body gave him. True, he had a rather unusual lover, but he could have said that before he knew about Ianto’s Gallifreyan and Carrionite lineage. Ianto Jones was a remarkable man: one quarter Time Lord; lynchpin to Torchwood Four; custodian of Torchwood Three. And Jack Harkness wasn’t about to let him go.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has 2 sequels:  
> Constant  
> Mythology
> 
> Author’s notes: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR FRAGMENTS
> 
> This story was inspired by two things I couldn’t get out of my mind. Firstly, in the Dr Who episode The Last of the Time Lords why didn’t Saxon just dispose of Torchwood Three – permanently? After all they are a secret organisation; it would be unlikely that anyone would kick up a fuss (with the Doc and Jack in custody), so why bother sending them to the Himalayas – just shoot them and pretend they went! If I was an evil mastermind, that’s what I would have done. I got to thinking wouldn’t it be great if Saxon had an ulterior motive for keeping them alive. You can see where this is going, can’t you? Yep, that’s why I made Ianto his grandson.
> 
> Secondly, in Fragments, Ianto is referred to as a drifter and nothing special in regards to his studies. Well, I thought if our boy was clever enough to look after his cyberwoman then he must have something about him. Maybe he had altered his file and was hiding his past? I’d wanted to use Torchwood Four for a while – here was my chance :)
> 
> Just a quick ramble about Ianto’s heritage. I deliberately didn’t mention his grandmother (but I did refer to his mum and dad) until the end. Now my Whovian knowledge is not brilliant, but I thought if Time Lords could breed easily with other species then they wouldn’t have died out (Time War or no Time War). So obviously I needed someone special to become our Mr Jones’s granny. The Carrionites (DW season 3 The Shakespeare Code) could manipulate magic and physics ... I thought they’d do me nicely!


End file.
